Chemistry
by Swag Giraffe
Summary: All he wanted was to get that stupid chemistry license. A Lest/Dolce one-shot.


**Disclaimer: I do not own any Rune Factory.**

* * *

"I'm tired… can't we finish this later?" Lest dropped his head on the wooden table, smashing his nose painfully.

Dolce sighed, rolling her eyes at the prince. "Hey, you're the one that wants a Chemistry License, genius."

Pico hopped onto the table beside Lest, whose rather unkempt pale green hair covered even the sides of his face. "Yeah! You're wasting valuable Dolly time here! Ow, hey!" Dolce smirked as her talisman found its mark, causing the little purple haired ghost to clutch her head in pain.

"Gee, if it's that important then take her! I wanna sleep…" Lest lifted his head to stare pleadingly at the young woman as he continued whining, "Can't we finish this tomorrow?"

Dolce met his lavender gaze with her cool, unflinching plum one as she responded, "You're the one that scheduled the exam for tomorrow."

Lest deadpanned at her even tone. "You don't care about me at all, do you?" He accused.

To his surprise the girl blushed, her cheeks a darker shade of pink than her pale pigtails. "I-I never said that…" She mumbled.

The prince blinked, startled at her behavior, and Pico fell to the table, weeping. Well, she sort of fell. It was more of a dramatic throwing of her ethereal body down to float right above the surface. "Oh Dolly, why do you delight in bringing me pain?" She sobbed, bright green eyes pooling with otherworldly tears.

Dolce frowned at her companion, "I'm not. And stop reading my mind!" She demanded.

"But I can't _help_ it..." Pico whimpered, giving the girl a tortured look.

"Uh, am I missing something?" Lest looked between the two females.

Dolce glared angrily at Pico before standing quickly and slamming the book in front of her shut. "We're done here," she whispered agitatedly before marching from the castle room.

"W-Wait for me, Dolly! Dolly!" Pico lifted herself off the table and followed quickly after the young woman.

Lest yawned tiredly and stood, sadly surveying the neat books and scattered papers that littered his table. "Well, I guess we'll see how this goes in the morning..." And with that, the prince of Selphia prepared for sleep. As he climbed into his bed, his last lingering thoughts as he drifted off were of a tall, slender girl with long, pale pink pigtails and the indifferent look she seemed always to give him.

* * *

"Wha-Whaddya mean, failed?!" Lest gaped at Volkanon, aghast.

"I mean that you answered too many questions incorrectly, your highness. You'll have to reschedule the test, my prince." The grey haired butler told him patiently.

Lest threw his head down onto the table, letting out a frustrated groan. "This sucks..." He mumbled into the wood.

The sound of a chair scraping against the wooden floor brought the prince's head up to look at the head butler. Volkanon stood, smiling encouragingly at him. "Don't worry, you'll get it, Lest. Chin up!" And with those words and a very hearty pat on the shoulder, he left the boy to brood alone.

Groaning loudly, Lest threw his head back and ran a hand through his celery shade hair, exhausted. "I still didn't get much sleep," he mourned. The sound of the door opening caused him to turn his head. It was a funny sight, really. The prince of Selphia sat in a wooden chair, Adam's apple bobbing as his head was dropped backwards onto the ladder-back of the seat. He blinked quickly at the sudden stream of sunlight, and saw a figure approaching him. If he didn't recognize her due to the bright shaft of light, he definitely knew her from her silhouette.

"Come to gloat?" He asked pitifully.

Dolce shrugged, "Well, I certainly didn't come to throw a party," She retorted sarcastically. At the hurt expression that flashed across his face, her features softened, as well as her voice. Settling in the chair beside him, she was silent for a moment before offering, "Well, they say the third time's the charm."

Lest moaned as he pulled his head up, massaging his neck gently. "Thanks, Dolce, but it's no use. I'm just no good at chemistry, or mixing remedies."

Dolce rolled her eyes, "Well, if you promise not to fall asleep, whine or ignore me, I may offer my assistance yet again."

The young man grinned cheekily, "Ehehe, well, no guarantees about the whining, but I promise to pay attention and stay awake."

Dolce nodded, "Very good."

A heartbroken Pico moaned from behind the young woman, "And what am I, chopped liver?!"

"No, you're dead." Dolce's biting retort came swiftly and annoyedly, accompanied by a wail of despair from the ghost.

Lest laughed, and Dolce's face reddened slightly. "So," she began as the trio stood and ventured outside, "Why do you want a chemistry license, anyway?"

Lest's face blanched. He couldn't tell her that it was because of Dr. Jones, the man she considered a father. He was a decent guy, but he ran his clinic very expensively, the devil. Why, now every time Lest passed out, he had to pay the blasted man over twenty-thousand gold! It would be much more affordable to craft medicines himself.

"W-Well, a prince should be well-rounded, right?" He lied lamely.

Dolce blinked at him for a moment, her plum eyes calm as a serene lake, before nodding. "I suppose so," she said.

Lest grinned at her as Pico clung to her skirt, and her pale, pale pink hair shone in the sunshine, the pigtailed curls loose and luscious. Her face displayed annoyance as she chastised the young host, but her hooded purple eyes betrayed a glimmer of affection. He took in the sight, the way the light played on her maroon Lolita dress and the top hat perched atop her head. It was a perfect sight in his mind, and that one particular moment would be burned in his memory forever. Someday, he would get that license, and very possibly something more.

"Are you coming, Lest?" Dolce's inquisitive voice brought the prince out of his stupor, and he nodded, picking up his pace.

"Yeah!" He slowed beside her. taking her hand in his. She blushed, but clutched his hand tightly. Her delicate, soft hand felt so perfect in his own calloused, farmer's hand. It felt like it was meant to be: who knew two hands could be created to entwine?

Pico clapped her shimmering hands to her pale face in despair, "Oh, why did he have to steal my precious Dolly from me?!" Fluttering backward to observe the blushing pair, the ghost giggled teasingly, "Well, there's one kind of chemistry that guy doesn't seem to have trouble with."

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**Hey folks!**

**So I was gonna take a break from writing, due to the nature of this week (Happy Thanksgiving to those who celebrate it! :D) but I had this written in my inspiration notebook. I called it my 'travel one-shot', and whenever I was out and about with nothing to do, I would work on it. It took a couple weeks, but I am actually rather pleased with it. :) So I decided to type it up and post it! I hope you liked it. So, enjoy this little surprise! :D**

**Please drop a review before you leave, I love them, and any tips would be most appreciated! :)**

**~Swaggy-chan**


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